


It's L and arry, separately

by lwtmehome



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:08:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lwtmehome/pseuds/lwtmehome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' a little drunk and really sad. He wonders a lot, but does nothing. He's kinda lonely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's L and arry, separately

Louis had never really thought about it. Well, he had. But he had never really thought that it would happen. His life, _their life_ , hadn’t been easy, nor simple since 2010, but somehow this year had been harder than the others. 

Zayn leaving, all the rumours going around and just the stress. But somehow Louis had trusted in the break. The break was supposed to fix it all. They had been talking about the break since January, even before they started recording and writing Made In The AM, and it was all so clear back then; they would make it through 2015 and then it would get better. Then they would have time to themselves. 

Time for him and Harry.

A sigh escapes his lips as he lifts the bottle to his lips. No matter how much he thinks about it, Harry won’t come back. No matter how much he tries to tell himself that it’s just about Modest!, he can’t shake off the feeling that he has screwed up. Which he probably did. 

It’s already been weeks, months since their break up, but Louis can’t seem to make it real in his head. How could he? Harry’s always there. Even though the tour is already over, they still have to see each other pretty often. Album is being released soon, in days, and all the promoting will start. 

Louis’ not sure how Harry does it. How he just walks past him without saying a word, without placing the usual kiss on his temple, without brushing their hands together when Louis is feeling anxious. He’s found himself struggling with his tied down feelings more than often and it isn’t getting any easier. Harry seems to be alright, he seems to be doing fine.

Liam did say that _it’s not like that, Louis,_ but somehow Louis can’t believe him. He’s never been that type of a guy anyways. He doesn’t believe it until he sees it. But Harry only talks to him about everyday stuff, like about how excited he’s to see how the fans will react to the songs or about their schedule. 

But Louis doesn’t care about those things. Not right now he doesn’t. He wasn’t ready to let Harry go, Harry wasn’t supposed to leave him. They fought through so many things, fights and all the rumours. So why, why is he here, drinking cheap beer and sitting on his London flat’s couch, staring at the white wall, while all of the others are out, celebrating the tour ending. 

And yet again Louis finds himself loathing himself, feeling pathetic. He roughly wipes the silent tears away, and with the last bits of his power, tries to take a breath but it’s shaky. Months, it’s been months, and he still does this. He still needs to remind himself not to touch Harry. Not to send him a message, invite him to spend the night together. He needs to avoid launching in the younger’s arms after something exciting happens. 

_Does it ever get easier,_ Louis wonders as he places the empty bottle on the couch table. The couch table that Harry chose for him. The curly haired boy had said it was very unic and vintage. Louis hadn’t cared, he had been too busy admiring Harry’s smile and twinkling eyes. What a fool had he been. Those he can still see, those he can still get a hold of every now and then. But hearing Harry’s meant-to-be-yapping-voice, that, he can’t hear anymore. Harry won’t allow him to. Never in a million years, had Louis thought that he’d miss that.

He buries his tear stained face in to his hands and grits his teeth painfully, as the cries can finally be heard. And even to Louis they sound lonely and painful in the silent flat.  
Louis knows. He knows he should’ve been more grateful. He knows he should’ve stayed with Harry when Niall or one of the lads in their band asked him out. He shouldn’t have screamed at the younger, when he was stressed. Because Harry never did anything wrong, he never hurt anyone, especially not Louis.

A funny thought hits Louis and makes him cry harder; someone could’ve called them high school sweethearts in the future, if they would’ve finished their school. In an another life things would’ve been so different. 

His phone vibrates, signaling an arriving text message. Louis sniffs and wipes his now runny nose, before picking up the device. The screen reads: _”Niall: you okay mate? want company?”_ Louis had expected the message, only from Liam. Niall had been spending a lot of time with Harry and Louis wants to think that it has something to do with his and Harry’s break up. Might be wishful thinking.

_” ’m fine, thanks Ni. just heading to bed. have fun, yeah?”_ The reply screams fake to Louis, but Niall buys it or at least pretends to. Louis tosses the phone on the table, letting himself fall back against the cushions. 

He is tired. But he also feels tired. And it’s not the kind of a tired that sleep could fix. Because Louis has been sleeping. He has, he has, but it just doesn’t make anything better. Not that thinking about Harry or his curls or the nights they’ve spent together, does either, but at least it makes him feel something. Sleeping feels like running away from his problems, and Louis is done running. 

He lays himself down on the couch properly, staring at the ceiling and he thinks about Harry. He thinks about their shared moments and he thinks about Harry’s dimples. He thinks about their matching tattoos and he thinks about all the times he made Harry laugh. He thinks about Harry’s sweet nature and tender touches. And even though it hurts, he thinks about Harry’s teary eyes and his mouth forming the final words, telling Louis _it’s not good anymore, Harry’s not happy, Harry feels bad and lonely,_ and Louis wants to punch himself, but it wouldn’t fix a thing.

Louis bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes the blood on his tongue and it starts to hurt. As he lays there, gulping down all the blood and words left unsaid, he wonders if he’ll ever be happy again. He wonders if Harry still loves him and he wonders if a person can let go of their soulmate.  
If they can, then Louis must not be a person. Because he’s not letting go of Harry, he’s not. He won’t let his angel fly away, he won’t admit that he screwed up too bad this time. Harry’s his and he’s Harry’s, no one can change that.

And he loves the way Harry says _Lou,_ and he wonders if Harry’s willing to call him that, even though it’s so sweet.  
In a lonely flat in the heart of London, under a white a ceiling, lays Louis Tomlinson, an international popstar, crying over a curly haired, warm hearted guy, that he loves so, so, very much. 

_Kind of sad._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna write a sequel too. I just want to post them separately. Also, Louis such a fool. Inspired by Love You Goodbye.


End file.
